Your Innocence is Mine
by xphile.1
Summary: Jude meets her new roommate at Briarcliff, the Angel of Death. The Angel provides a release, and it's not from living. Rated M for femslash. One-shot.


**A/N: Standard disclaimer that the show and characters aren't mine. It's inevitable that I'd ship any form of characters for Frances Conroy and Jessica Lange. AU from the episode 'Continuum' in season two, although I used most of the lines from the scene. **** Let's just go to the happy ship place where it really was ****Shachath** as Jude's roommate, and not a hallucination. Includes femslash, as usual.

* * *

_"I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
_I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask_  
_I want to exorcise the demons from your past_  
_I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

_You may be a sinner_  
_But your innocence is mine" - 'Disclosure' by Muse  
_

Jude's mouth parted in dismay as she entered her room only to see the unmistakeable flawless face of Death who happened to be resting on the top bunk. Her stomach twisted into a knot at the all too familiar face.

"Hello, gorgeous. I'm on top." The pale woman leered at Jude, dark eyes raking over her as the orderly guided her into the cell.

"What's she doing here?" Jude frantically turned toward Jorge.

The orderly replied without a hint of emotion as he began to shut the heavy door. "She's your new roommate. Everyone doubles up, Betty."

The door clanged like a bell tolling for death. How fitting, Jude thought to herself. And 'Betty.' The name still made her bristle with cold anger. "No," she said, coming face-to-face with the closed door. "No," she repeated, turning to face the raven-haired woman. "I don't know what song was playing in your head, but I don't want you here. I'm not ready." She hissed, moving toward the bunk.

Dark eyes watched Jude's frustrated movements as she began searching for something in the small cell. "You lose something, honey?"

"Yeah, my cigarettes." Jude rasped with a bite of irritation in her tone. She overturned her thin mattress, and then snapped her gaze to Death's form. The woman's fingers curled around the cigarette pack as she sat straight on the top bunk, back braced against the wall. "You took 'em..."

With a keen smirk, the normally reserved, soft-spoken woman offered no apology. "Everything in this cell belongs to me. That includes you."

Jude feared she truly had walked down a path of madness, encountering Death in such a manner. While she had always been in awe of Death's impeccable beauty, she never once thought that there was any other side to Death aside from the promise of relief and freedom. Even with her outward distaste of homosexuality when the reporter Lana Winters had visited Briarcliff, Jude realized that losing her clerical status gave her the ability to follow any carnal desires she wished without the oppression of guilt and remorse. While those opportunities were extremely limited now, she found that Death's allure was rather enticing in an altogether different way than she had previously craved. "Why are you doing this? Why now?" Jude whispered, searching Death's face for answers but found only the mysterious smile. "I'm so close to getting out," Jude said with desperation.

"What are you talking about?" Death, preferring to be known as Shachath, eased herself off the top bunk, the blue smock rising to show long pale legs. "Everyone knows there's only one way out of Briarcliff, and it ain't the front door." She snickered.

"You're toying with me." Jude was defiant. There was no way she was going to let her end come now when the Monsignor's promise to free her was still an easily attainable dream.

"Babycakes, I'm only just starting to toy with you." Shachath stated with a predatory grin as she stalked toward Jude, who was backpedaling toward the corner of the cell. "When I get going, you'll be begging for more. You'll be shaking and moaning." Her voice was low and rolling in timbre as she shook her head slightly. She advanced further onto the woman, arms lifting to pin Jude against the wall.

Jude's eyes were wide with fear, or maybe it was anticipation, and she thrust her arms out to plant her palms on the woman's shoulders. "You stay away from me," she said with quiet forcefulness.

"Aw...don't be that way." Shachath rolled her body away with the shove of Jude's hands, and leaned against the wall next to her. She struck a match, the stench of sulfur littering the air, and lit one of Jude's cigarettes. "Here, drag." She offered the cigarette to Jude. "Calm your frazzled nerves." Her voice was softer now, meant to be comforting and friendly as she regarded the woman next to her.

Swallowing back the last bit of fear that lingered, Jude raised her hand in hesitation to take the peace offering. She drew in a breath of smoke and then exhaled. "You just keep your mouth away from mine." Jude's voice still held a slight shake. Another hit from the cigarette held the promise of smoothing the edginess she had felt moments ago.

"I knew you'd change your tune," She smirked knowingly and angled her body toward Jude, shoulder nestled against the wall. "All other places are not off limits, I'm assuming..."

With a lift of her shoulders, Jude flicked her gaze over the sharp contrast of Shachath's features, focusing on the moonlight pale skin complemented by the dark sky pigment of her hair and eyes. "Like I said, no kissing my lips," Jude whispered.

Cornering her obedient prey, Shachath stood in front of Jude and slipped both hands to her waist, grasping her curves. "We'll end up making quite a song together, Jude. We already know how to dance to it," her voice was melodic and quiet as she dipped her head to press her lips to Jude's exposed neck.

Nearly jumping as the woman leaned in for what she thought would be a kiss to her lips, Jude let out a loud sigh as Shachath narrowed in on her neck instead. Jude took another long drag from the cigarette, blowing out ringlets of smoke as she closed her eyes for a brief moment. The tense muscles of her body relaxed slowly as the soft lips trailed along her neck, and she rested her head against the wall.

"Don't be scared, Jude." The whisper tickled Jude's ear. Shachath lifted her right hand from it's spot on her waist and pushed aside some of the tendrils of tangled dull blonde hair, and left her hand there to pin the unkempt hair out of her way. "I know you've suffered. I'll ease your pain if not for a little while, but I won't take you away yet." The promise was sealed with a kiss to Jude's earlobe, and then the deadly angel began to nibble on the soft flesh, encouraging a soft whimper from Jude.

The cigarette, now forgotten, tumbled to the floor from Jude's fingers and she brought both hands to grasp the woman's waist, pulling her body flush against her own. Needy hands roamed the woman's frame, from her ample rear end and up her spine, finally settling on her breasts. If Jude was nervous or unsure of herself, she didn't show it, but merely followed her body's instincts.

Mirroring Jude's movements, Shachath slid her free hand to the woman's chest, cupping her breast through the thin smock. Releasing her hold, she slid her hand south until reaching Jude's hip, and began to bunch the material of the smock up in her hand. Exposing the tops of her thighs, she maneuvered her fingertips under the flimsy material of the institution-issued undergarments. Brushing soft patterns against the flesh of Jude's pelvic region, Shachath continued nibbling on her earlobe. Eventually, she released her ear and left wet kisses along Jude's neck as she moved to kiss along her collarbone.

Jude's reflexes caused a gentle squeeze of her fingers on Shachath's breasts, cradling them as the woman began to toy with her pulsating center's folds using her fingertips. Her breathing was labored and erratic as disoriented thoughts rushed through her mind. What would the Monsignor think of her if he knew of such sin taking place? How much of a hypocrite was she for admonishing Lana for these very same actions? Was this a ruse for Death to simply take her in a moment of lust-induced weakness? Would Timothy ever keep his promise? Would Lana? The thoughts parted and cleared like clouds disappearing after a storm once she felt the cool touch of slender fingers _inside_ of her.

Shachath had inserted her index and middle fingers into Jude's slick walls and was beginning to thrust her hand against her in a gratingly slow pace. Jude moaned softly, her head lolling to the side as she rotated her hips against the woman's palm. Surely, this was a sin as it felt far more sensual than any other carnal act she had performed with men. Jude squeezed the soft flesh resting in her hand, and abruptly released her grip so she could yank the muted blue smock down to free one of Shachath's breasts. Her hand returned to the mound again so she could tickle the hardened nipple against her palm.

The angel let out a soft sigh against Jude's collarbone, giving another stroke of her fingers through the messy pale locks before mimicking the same action; she wrestled with the edge of Jude's collar, ripping the material as she exposed the woman's chest. Hungrily she sealed her lips onto Jude's right breast, sucking the sensitive skin before flicking her tongue over the peak of her nipple.

Accepting her fate as a chronic sinner, Jude moaned and clutched the back of Shachath's head with both hands, fingers lost in the dark nest of raven tresses. Keeping the angel firmly placed against her aching bosom, she began to breathe more heavily. "Dear Jesus, please forgive me," she whispered, panting the words as Shachath's fingers massaged her wet center, the teasing of her thumb over her clit almost too much to handle.

Shachath lifted her pink lips from Jude's chest for a moment. "Sister, you may be a sinner but your innocence will always be mine," she whispered before returning to giving attention to Jude's left breast, her left hand gently cupping underneath and lifting the pliable flesh to her mouth.

Jude let out a series of whimpers as she rubbed herself on the heel of Shachath's palm, the sensation of the two fingers inside of her urging her toward ecstasy, a release of pent up guilt and anger. At the first indication of the woman gently nibbling her nipple, Jude felt a rush of pulsating satisfaction roll through her. Her body went rigid as she squealed in pleasure, skull smacking against the walk, and then Jude tensed, feeling the wetness smear between her thighs. She scratched her nails lightly on the angel's scalp as she felt the fingers withdraw with a quiet swish along with swollen lips giving one last gentle bite to her breast before pulling away. Jude was breathing heavily, eyes only half-closed to ensure those angelic lips didn't come near her mouth.

Shachath straightened, hands trailing over the soft skin of Jude's arms to take her hands. She led the trembling woman to her bunk, guiding her to lay down. True to her word, the angel smoothed her fingers over Jude's forehead to brush away her tousled hair that clung to her from the perspiration. "Sweet dreams, beautiful." The whisper was just barely audible.

Jude adjusted her smock to achieve some sort of modesty and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, the gorgeous angel was gone. In an effort to reassure herself that she was not going crazy, Jude shut her watery eyes tightly, telling herself that Shacath was on the top bunk, keeping watch over her as she fell into a restless sleep.


End file.
